


The Umbrella Academia

by KingJackson10101010



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Bisexual Vanya Hargreeves, Blood and Injury, Midoriya Izuku Needs A Hug, Midoriya Izuku is a Ray of Sunshine, Number Five is a savage, Number Five | The Boy & Vanya Hargreeves Friendship, Number Five | The Boy Has Issues, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Number Five | The Boy is So Done, Number Five | The Boy-centric, Protective Allison Hargreeves, Protective Diego Hargreeves, Protective Klaus Hargreeves, Protective Vanya Hargreeves, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Todoroki Shouto is a Dork
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:35:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingJackson10101010/pseuds/KingJackson10101010
Summary: Izuku Midoriya is now in his second year of high school, and trying his best to continue his path of becoming a great hero, and the next Symbol of Peace. But something happens that he doesn't anticipate.A boy wearing a foreign school uniform, speaking in broken Japanese and who goes by the name "Five" appears out of nowhere- literally. A strange boy with a versatile Quirk would usually be pretty normal, but what's not normal is what he confides in Midoriya: that he is looking for his missing siblings and is actually nearly sixty years old.But what Midoriya doesn't know is that this whole world could be at stake, and Five has no idea if it will happen, or how he'd be able to stop it. Five only cares about getting his siblings home safe, but then again, he was a hero once too. And besides, he is quite the multitasker.Learning how to trust someone who doesn't trust even themselves, and learning how to trust when you've never had any from the start; both might be even more daunting tasks than saving the world, but Izuku refuses to give up, and Five has survived far, far worse.
Relationships: Number Five & Aizawa Shota, Number Five | The Boy & Midoriya Izuku, Number Five | The Boy & The Hargreeves (Umbrella Academy), Number Five | The Boy & Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 30
Kudos: 231





	1. The Stranger That Came Out of Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> Run Boy, Run

Izuku Midoriya was having a bad day. But then again, that was par for the course.

He was only a couple weeks in to his second year of high school, and already he had messed up several times. He'd forgotten his summer homework— an essay on the challenges one might face when trying to become a hero— and had to double back to get it, which made him miss his train. He'd tried to run to school, and while he made it just on time, he'd tripped and fallen at least thrice, muddying his uniform and scraping up his hands and knees. Uraraka, the sweet girl she was, had asked if he was okay, Iida had told him off for his shoddy appearance, and Kacchan had merely scoffed in his direction, complete with a soft muttering of "Damn Deku."

Aizawa, who had been assigned to reteach his previous class for their second year, walked in and merely gave Izuku a four second long look of utter disapproval, before ordering the class to take their seats. And of course, someone (Mineta) thought it would be a funny prank to put one of his sticky orbs on Izuku's seat. While the green haired boy hadn't ended up sitting on it, he subconsciously tried to pick it up and throw it to the side. And you can imagine how well that went.

Because Mineta had eaten spicy sushi rolls for dinner the previous night, and leftovers for his breakfast, it took nearly the whole class period to get him unstuck. Mineta tried to pass the blame onto Denki, which prompted an argument and tired everyone out by the time they were done.

On top of that, he was finally starting to run out of pages in his notebook. Though it wasn't all that bad; it was old and tattered anyway, having endured years of abuse after suffering the brunt of many, many of Kacchan's violent explosive rampages. The pages were yellowed and dried out, the back was torn in many places, and a lot of entries were too smudged to even read. He'd had it since he was four, but it might be time to finally let go.

I'll have to buy a new notebook, one that's a bit longer, and spend some time filling up the pages. That'll mean copying down some of my previous notes for who knows how long, but at least I'll be able to make updates...

"Dekkun, you're doing it again!"

Izuku looked to his right from where he was seated. It was at that point he realized that class was over and everyone was already leaving.

Uraraka-San stood cheerfully at his side, her smile as bright as ever. Izuku couldn't help but cheer up at the sight of her. She was a fun girl to be around, and nearly everything about her seemed to emphasize this. Her wide, round eyes, her bouncy brown bob cut, and the way she walked around like she was lighter than air. Fitting for someone with a Zero Gravity Quirk.

Izuku smiled back, as much as he could given his crappy day. But hey, it can't be that crappy now that she's here. "S-Sorry, Uraraka-San, I was spacing out..."

"Yeah, I can tell. Well tomorrow, the class is gonna have a group training session after school to prepare for our Quirk assessment."

Izuku sighed. Aizawa was fond of giving the kids tests that would mean half their grade if they failed, regardless of how appropriate the timing was. "Real heroes are always prepared to face stressful situations," he'd say.

"Y-yeah, I just hope I do well this time around." Izuku muttered as he got out of his seat.

She started walking alongside him out of the classroom. "You'll be fine. After all, you're 'you can do it' Deku!"

She hollered that last part with a cheer very close to his face, and he felt his cheeks burn. "T-thank you, U-Uraraka-San, I..." oh god she's even closer now what does he do—

He scrambled for something to say. "I-I, um... d-did you h-hear about that new v-vigilante on the news?" Smooth, Deku. Every girl loves to talk about felons on the run.

Thought apparently, Uraraka seemed to jump on board with the subject. "Oh, yeah! They say he killed three people, and the next day he killed a pro hero in self defense. Well, I think it was self defense, though the news would say otherwise. Anyway, they think he has some sort of illusion type Quirk."

"He has to if he went up against Empress." Izuku suddenly went on a rant. "She could drain someone's emotions, including their will to fight, with just a single touch, so the only way to defeat her is to not let her get any hits in, which is hard enough considering how she was strong enough to knock someone out in less than a minute—"

"Are the two of you talking about Empress's untimely demise?"

They both turned around, just in time to see their class rep, Iida, all but explode out of the classroom, which didn't surprise them much considering how gung-ho he usually was about most things. He looked like your typical teacher's pet, tall and dependable looking with neatly combed dark blue hair and glasses. Thing was, Aizawa wasn't a fan, thanks to Iida's tendency to go overboard in most things.

Uraraka waved him over. "Yeah, we are! It's really sad though. Empress was such as great hero."

Iida nodded in agreement. "Which is why I believe that this criminal should be charged as a villain would be! Only someone that is truly heinous would murder such an amazing hero!"

"W-Wait, hang on," Izuku interrupted, "we don't know that he murdered her, per se. He could've just been trying to escape and went a little overboard."

Uraraka seconded that. "Which is why I think we should consider self defense."

"Regardless, he brought an end to someone's life, which is completely unforgivable." Iida spoke so confidently that both Uraraka and Izuku were forced to concede. He was right, after all. Killing is wrong, no matter how you look at it.

The trio left the school building still going on about Empress and the vigilante. The recent days have been rather frigid and rainy, due to April showers bringing in a cold front. The rain had let up just in time, as the three of them all decided to stop at a nearby bakery before they went their separate ways.

The bakery, a family owned business called Secret Ingredient, mostly sold bread and such, but they had amazing donuts and coffee as well. The head of the business, Mr. Hajime they called him, seemed to like having the U.A. kids around, and usually served them almost immediately. The kids were always grateful, since he put care into each cup. Not to mention the service itself was amazing. Mr. Hajime's Quirk, "Workaholic" as he dubbed it, was the ability to work at something at blinding speed. His speed was only in his arms, so while he couldn't run fast, he could have something done in less than a minute. Speed Quirks usually come at the cost of being hard to control, but Mr. Hajime had an unbelievable amount of precision.

When they came up to his counter, they all put in an order— Uraraka and Izuku both ordered two chocolate donuts, while Iida merely wanted an espresso. Mr. Hajime got to work, going so fast that it seemed as though he had multiple arms. He finished in under three minutes, which apparently was a bit of a record for him, and served it on the spot. The donuts were fresh and smelled wonderful, and the coffee was surprisingly refreshing, as Iida noted.

They briefly sat down at a nearby booth and continued their earlier conversation. Uraraka then made a suggestion.

"Hh, y'know wh?" She asked, her cheeks stuffed with cream filling. "E shld twy n cash m."

"What?" The two boys asked simultaneously.

She swallowed, her face pink. "I said that we should try and catch him. I mean, we're not just students anymore, we have hero licenses and everything."

Iida argued, "Even so, Uraraka-San, this guy killed a pro hero. No one found her body until hours later."

"Because she didn't expect to find him! And she was alone, too. We all just need to work together."

"I suppose, maybe you have a point. Even so, just the three of us isn't going to be enough."

"Then maybe we can bring it up during the study session tomorrow."

Just then, Izuku's phone chimed. Curiously, he pulled it out of his pocket, and when he read the notification, his face went slack and he nearly dropped his donut.

"What's wrong?" Iida asked.

Izuku's hand shook slightly, but he didn't know why. "Well... apparently, the Sorcerer was spotted near this area."

"The Sorcerer?" Uraraka asked.

"It's what they're calling that vigilante."

"Well then let's catch him!"

"W-Wait!" Izuku quickly tried to talk her down. "We don't really have a plan, and we already said we'd need backup. I know it's tempting, but let's wait for a bit."

Uraraka pondered that for a moment. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Let's just hope no one else gets to him before we do."

•

•

•

The afternoon sun was slowly creeping out from behind the clouds, which had finally been drained after raining on the city for days on end. Not a lot of people were outside, and those who were merely rushed to wherever they had to go in a hurry, not paying attention to those around them.

So naturally, no one batted an eye when there suddenly was a sound in the air, similar to that of rushing wind along with a sharp whistle, like the air was being sucked into a black hole. No one noticed a small tear in the fabric of the universe suddenly pop up, a little opening in between the space and time surrounding all of them, and the surrounding space rushing into said hole like a waterfall, crystal blue and fluid. And no one saw a skinny young man step out from said hole, and collapse to his knees.

The boy wore a school uniform that wasn't like anything that Japan ever saw. Schoolboy shorts and a navy blue sweater were stained with dirt, muddy water and blood. His shoes were both tattered, and the bow tie around his neck had come undone.

Even stranger was the boy himself. His hair had the appearance of someone who normally didn't have to put a lot of effort into making it look neat, but it seemed to be matted in some places. He had various bruises, fresh wounds, and was near dripping with blood. He had a black eye, his face covered in scratches, his hands bleeding freely, his body crumpled in on itself as if he was in tremendous pain.

Number Five limped across the street, praying he would go unnoticed. Every step felt like agony, but he pushed through. He'd been trained to handle extreme pain, no matter what. He wouldn't give in, he wouldn't. The world would just love to see him fail and die, but he'll prove everyone wrong. He'd been to hell and back, and this is nothing compared to that.

Just a week prior, he'd ended up looking for his good for nothing siblings again, the useless fucks. It was astounding how the one who'd been living in a wasteland since age thirteen was the least man-child of the bunch. But they were his family, so no way was he letting anything happen to them. Not ever again.

He collapsed in an alleyway, his breathing labored. A lot has happened since he left to search for his family. He'd initially assumed that they'd gotten themselves wrapped up with the Commission, so he went on his way to try and rescue them. Unfortunately, all he found was several thousand people who were very pissed off at him, not to mention armed. Five was forced to fight his way out, taking down as many as he could. He stopped counting once he ran out of juice, and therefore his ability to teleport was hindered, and by then he'd already reached the hundred territory.

As a last ditch effort, he tried using what was left of his power to try and teleport himself back into his own timeline. Time travel was unfortunately not his strong suit, but in a moment of desperation, while on the verge of death, he willed himself to be taken back to the brothers and sisters he loved.

But he'd ended up jumping too far forward. The apocalypse had been averted, and for some reason, he somehow knew that his siblings were responsible. Guess everyone is good for something.

And yet, that posed another problem.

He had no idea where the hell his siblings were now. He'd tried everything he knew, everything he'd picked up in the hitman business, but he found next to nothing. The best he could find was a hint that they may be in Japan. Why on God's green earth they would be in Japan, he had no idea, but it was all he had. Thankfully, he had been forced to learn several languages as a child, and several more during his time at the Commission, and Japanese was one of them. In a way, the parts of himself that he hated the most, his horrific past, and all the mistakes he ever made ended up being what helped him.

Oh, the irony.

One week later, here he is. And it would've been so much easier if it hadn't been for those three criminal idiots.

And that bitch in the bodysuit.

Regardless, he'd managed to learn a lot about this timeline. For one thing, everyone had a superpower like his, only they were called "Quirks". Five didn't know if his own abilities could be considered a Quirk, but he assumed so. Using your power in public is illegal, and being a hero means getting a license. Villains roam the streets, and are considered such because they use their powers without the proper permission. Vigilantes are similar, only they don't go out of their way to commit crime.

But none of that mattered, since he would be leaving once he found his siblings. Except now, he was a wanted man, thanks to that... small incident from the other day. He'd tried to patch himself up, but the fight had burst his stitches and reopened his wounds. He was in no shape to fight or even run, especially not the police. In short, his ass is grass.

First things first, he needs to find different clothes. He'd been so busy trying not to die that he hadn't changed out of them. It was very much drawing attention to him, and not just because it's stained with other people's blood. Speaking of which, said blood had started stiffening the cloth and making it hard to move, what with all the itching and chafing.

In general, he probably needs a good shower. But that can wait.

Still breathing heavily, Five stands up, and starts hobbling out of the alley. He'll have to be quick if he wants to get to where he wants to go without getting noticed.

He ran through the calculations in his head. The space between here and there, the amount of energy he has left, the timing, the level and the air density. All of those variables could make or break him. He could usually calculate in a matter of milliseconds, but since his current destination was so far away, and he was so low on fuel, he couldn't afford to take risks.

Five took a deep breath, and imagined himself taking a single step and arriving where he wants to be. He opened his senses, cleared his head, and blinked away.

He failed to notice the green-haired teen who stared at the spot where he had previously been standing, wide eyed and stunned.


	2. Hesitation and Hitmen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment he realized just how much he never had was around the same time he lost all of what he did have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five needs coffee, and I need a break.

Izuku had hesitated to tell his friends. Though he knew it was a stupid idea, holding back what he had seen, a part of him, the part that usually held him back from doing things he should be doing, was screaming that no one should know about the Sorcerer.

After all, he hadn't just seen the Sorcerer. What he saw was the Sorcerer lurking in the shadows behind an alleyway, drenched in blood and shambling around like a zombie before taking a step forward, and disappearing as though he had never existed.

The shadows had prevented him from getting a good look at his face, but if Izuku had to guess, he had to be relatively young, though it could have just been malnutrition that made him look so skinny. For someone at that age to be so unfettered and ruthless, it was impossible to believe.

Then again, there had been Shigaraki...

And yet, despite all his scruples, he knew that saying something was the right thing to do. It didn't matter how old the guy was or how scary he happened to be; his job as a hero is to take down the dangers that roam the streets.

So when he finally got home, the first thing he did was build a profile on the Sorcerer.

_Name: Unknown_

_Vigilante Name: The Sorcerer_

_Quirk: Teleportation. Can jump between one space to another. Range unknown._

Underneath he made a sketch of what he might look like. It was mostly a blank mannequin-like figure with a featureless schoolboy uniform. Needless to say, he'd have to update this soon.

After that, he had phoned Uraraka (he'd slowly gotten better at talking to her over the phone) and confessed what he saw the other day. He thought she'd be mad, but bless her forgiving soul, she easily understood why he kept it to himself.

"But it's not likely that he stays in one place for too long, so we don't know if he's still there." Izuku had pointed out.

Uraraka merely pondered that for a moment, only to respond cheerily, "Well he still could've left clues behind."

"I guess so," he surmised, "but still..."

"Was it really the Sorcerer? It could have just been some other criminal."

"You have a point, but even so, that's one hell of a coincidence."

"Fair enough."

"We should come up with a game plan with the others tomorrow."

Uraraka made a small noise of agreement, somewhere between an "mm-hmm" and a contemplative sigh. "Let's hope this guy isn't as dangerous as we think. What did he look like again?"

Izuku shook his head, though he knew that she couldn't see him. "All I got was that he's either kind of short or kind of young, about five foot six or something, and wearing a blood-crusted uniform that doesn't look like any of the nearby schools I know of." He thought about that moment where the vigilante had hopped right through a rip in the essence of space like it was nothing. They know nothing about this guy, this guy that can jump from one place to the next and he's already killed four people, one of them a pro hero. Was this really the right decision?

"Cool." Uraraka cut off his train of thought. "In that case, we can just go off what the news has told us and work up from there."

"Y-yeah." Izuku remained unconvinced.

"Don't sound so unsure! Remember, you're "you can do it" Deku!"

"R-right! I-I'll try!"

With that, Uraraka hung up, and Izuku merely flopped onto his bed, mentally exhausted from today's events. In hindsight, maybe this isn't such a smart idea. But it's far too late to back out now, and besides, it's going to be twenty versus one. Not that Izuku was hoping for any sort of confrontation, but then again, it's best to be prepared for any situation.

This only brought him back to thinking about the Sorcerer... and feeling a weird, deep seated feeling of discomfort. After all, the guy looked injured, and though he didn't get a good look at the dude's face, somehow he could tell that there was some sort of distress about him. Just from the way he stumbled around, hurt but determined, and leaped away in the shadows.

And now, Izuku was expected to arrest him. Arrest him and throw him in jail. For all he knew, he was just some scared teenager, or desperate drifter who got too caught up in whatever he got caught up in.

But whatever. He couldn't afford to feel any sort of hesitation. It's like Iida said, regardless of who he was, he still killed Empress, a strong hero with friends and family and had people that looked up to her.

He needs to catch that vigilante. That's the bottom line.

At least, that's what Izuku told himself as he tried to fall asleep.

But two hours later, he was still lying awake, in the depths of the night's darkness. So he got up out of his bed, and trying not to trip on something, he made his way to his desk and turned on his desk lamp, illuminating his desk which had the ratty old notebook he'd had since he was a kid. He grabbed a red pen from the depths of his drawer, clicked on the light, and then quickly flipped through the pages until he landed on the one he was looking for.

There, he drew a star at the bottom of the page and scribbled in:

_Capture alive and unharmed._

He stared at the footnote for a minute, sparkling in scarlet ink, and his mind couldn't help but flash back to the blood stains that the criminal left behind, blotting the pavement. Most of it might have been dried already, but some of it could have been recent.

Something clicked inside of his head.

Some of the blood was recent enough to leave a trail.

Maybe...

Izuku collapsed back into his bed, his mind still racing a million miles an hour.

•

•

•

The next day, after classes where over, everyone had decided to gather at Yaoyorozu-san's house at around 4:00. This was mostly because Yaoyorozu had by far the largest abode out of everyone in the class, being from a long line of pro heroes that altogether have enough funds to feed a decent sized army for the rest of their natural lives. Her parents apparently are famous enough to do hero work overseas, so she's often left to her own devices as a result. Though come to think of it, Izuku has yet to go to her house himself. He'd merely heard about it's sheer size and radiance by listening to his classmates rave enviously about it during class.

So the full force of his classmate's immense wealth was only hitting him just now. Her house was, for a lack of a better term, titanic. It might as well have been that very same ship, since it looked big enough to fit hundreds of people hospitably. A yard extending nearly a kilometer all the way around, surrounded by a steel reinforced gate was blocking off a beautiful fountain with an angel statue topping it, encircled at its base by a ring of foreign looking flowers and a small lining of cleanly trimmed hedges.

To say nothing of their mansion. Clearly a bunch of pros lived here. Pillars of polished marble and ivory colored stone arced over a four story building, curving to create flying buttresses. The windows were made out of opaque black stained glass and the door could probably fit an elephant through it. Balconies extended out beyond openings to rooms,

Yaoyorozu waited eagerly at the front of her abode, clearly excited. She wore a basic white dress with a flowing laced skirt that didn't quite reach her knees, and a fluffy, ruby red shawl that looked to be made out of some sort of dead animal fur, with tight pantyhose extending down her legs to meet her expensive looking slippers. When she saw her peers approaching the front steps, her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree and she began bouncing on the balls of her feet, looking less like a class representative and more like the giddy teenage girl she was:

"Welcome, guys!" She yelled enthusiastically from the steps. Everyone greeted her in their own way, finding her excitement amusing a little bit. Normally, she was so dignified and studious, so it was a bit of a rare experience to see her act like a such a kid.

Uraraka was the first to reach her, having all but lead the pack of students since she had been to Yaoyorozu's place before. Following her was Iida, who has tried his best to keep everyone in line and make sure no one lagged behind, as the class representative often did when the group went anywhere.

One by one, the teens all filed their way into the house, with Yaoyorozu holding open the door and beaming as everyone walked by. Izuku, who had been all but star struck when he first arrived, couldn't help but give her a sheepish smile as he entered the building as well. Followed by Kacchan quickly shoving the green haired boy inside so that he himself could enter.

Before anyone could get a good look at the rest of the house, which was definitely too big to even be called a house, Yaoyorozu closed the door.

Todoroki Shoto, the top of their class, walked up to her, and with the same unconcerned bluntness he always used, asked her the very question that everyone else had on their minds.

"What's the plan on catching the Sorcerer?"

•

•

•

Two more days into his street life and already he's starting to lose it.

It's not the fact that Five has to eat out of the trash. He's used to eating far nastier shit for the sake of survival. Sure, half the junk in there he had to wrestle with raccoons over, but at least he could get something good if the garbage was recent. He managed to get a full feast of dried up meats and slightly moldy vegetables, which wasn't ideal but better than nothing. Lucky for him, he had a strong stomach from eating garbage in the apocalypse. Hell, sometimes the raccoons themselves could be roasted to near perfection. When you spend nearly a lifetime living off of rats and cockroaches, anything tastes good.

It wasn't the fact that he had to steal. He stole a lot of things during his time at the Commission whenever he needed to, and had gotten very, very good at it. Usually it had something to do with the space time continuum. When old fashioned pickpocketing wasn't enough, he got creative. The other day he ended up hiding from the cops by running inside a school, and he saw an opportunity present itself. He was lucky enough to end up in the locker room while the kids were at gym class, and so he picked the lock on one of the lockers with ease, used the showers to rinse the blood off (which felt like bliss, getting all that grime off him) and slipped on the uniform. He put the lock back in its place before he left, and would later burn the soiled Academy uniform he had always worn up until this point. He enjoyed watching the stupid thing go up in flames.

It wasn't even the language barrier. He'd been studying normal Japanese conversation via walking into shops here and there and trying to eavesdrop on conversations. He knew enough Japanese to understand what others were saying, but apparently he was falling behind on modern terms and language. Once, he tried to order himself a cup of coffee, and the waitress commented that he "talks like an old man". He spent a few minutes mulling over the irony of her choice of words before she came back.

All in all, he was doing fine.

Except for the powers.

He'd spent a stupid amount of time trying to get used to the fact that supernatural abilities were considered normal, and that he didn't have to go to some isolated location in order to use his own "Quirk", as it was called. No one seemed to bat an eye when he jumped from one space to another for convenience sake.

But the downside of that was that there were now about fifty trillion, six hundred and eighty five billion, twenty two million ways he could die, and even more ways he could get caught. He'd spend a long time calculating those odds, and would of spent longer trying to get an exact number if he hadn't the need to constantly be moving. This new variable, superpowers that were impossible to guess or even imagine, was a whole new game changer, and for this first time in a while, Five found himself wondering if he would be able to handle the situation long enough to finish his mission.

He'd been playing around with his powers for the past few days, but for some reason, his energy reserves were at a constant negative, which wasn't exactly ideal due to the nature of his power. It required both immense stamina, which he normally had in spades, and some serious brainpower, which he had even more of. But having one and not the other was like trying to make fresh coffee without grounds. It was inconsistent at best.

But he still had work to do. He was a hit man, a killer. His skill set was far beyond that of any human, even in this world. His intellect, training, survival skills, marksmanship, speed, strength, experience, and sheer willpower were matched by none. Even as his physical health started to decline as a result of his age and the bad conditions of the end of the world, he was still the top assassin of the Commission. And of course, he was not going to let them have the last laugh.

He'd find his siblings and save them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is wondering, Five and the rest of his siblings’s powers are similar to quirks, but can’t be considered such. This is mostly because quirks took several generations to evolve into what they are now.


	3. Alright Kids, We’re Going On Patrol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Life’s not fair” is what adults say when they don’t want to deal with your problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be a spoiler, but you can expect Lila to make an appearance some time in the future. But I’m not saying when or why >.<

The plan was simple enough: since the main problem was getting past the guy's quirk, the goal was to keep him in place. If there was no way to do that, then they'd have to knock him out safely. They all wondered if they should contact Midnight, especially Mineta, who was excited to see the "goddess of sexiness" as he dubbed her, but it was soon found out that she would be far too busy that day.

In the end, they all decided that the best person for the job was Mr. Aizawa, who could take away the guy's Quirk before he could teleport away. Which was something Izuku managed to bring up during the conversation, though not very easily. He had to work his way around a very pissed off (more so than usual) Kacchan, who continued to glare at him with the air of someone who caught a stray cat digging around in his garbage at munching on dead rats— with an unholy amount of unbridled disgust and annoyance.

But when everyone heard about his story and ability to teleport, their reactions varied. Some reacted with eagerness, like Mina Ashido, who was eager to attempt a trap utilizing her Quirk. She wanted to try and encircle him in a ring of acid so he couldn't escape, only for Izuku to point out that he can teleport, which put a quick end to that plan. The more serious minded but optimistic classmates, like Tsuyu and Iida, immediately converged and began collaborating with one another to work out the best course of action. The quiet, calmer ones like Tokoyami and Shoji all seemed to be in deep thought, contemplating the idea of going up against a teleporting Quirk. And the far less excitable classmates like Todoroki and Bakugo (well, Bakugo was excitable in his own way), seemed none too thrilled. Todoroki-kun in particular had his lips pressed in a tight line and seemed to be avoiding eye contact, which Izuku was familiar enough with to recognize as being the fire-and-ice wielder's concerned face.

Bakugo meanwhile was just scowling. Izuku was sure he'd be the first to want to take a crack at this new threat, an opponent with a powerful Quirk and a body count, but instead his former childhood friend remained silent, which while not exactly a first for him, was usually a sign that a bomb was ticking under the surface, waiting for its chance to go off. It's like looking at the calm before the storm, mere minutes before the inevitable hurricane.

Ultimately it was decided: patrol would be split into groups, based on compatibility. Group one was Tsuyu, Ojiro, Aoyama, Shoji, and Mina. The number two group was Uraraka, Iida, Koda, Sato, and Hagakure. Group three was Bakugo, Kaminari, Kirishima, Mineta, and Sero. Finally, number four was Yaoyorozu, Todoroki, Tokoyami, Jirou, and Midoriya.

Overall, it didn't seem like to bad of a grouping. Kirishima and Kaminari seemed to be the only ones capable of getting along with Bakugo (though the phrase "getting along" was rather generous), and Mineta was put into the group that didn't have any girls in it, for obvious reasons. Sero agreed to tie him up with tape if the purple fiend tried anything. Mina and Tsuyu have trained together many times, and Tsuyu could keep Mina and Aoyama in line if they got too distracted. And Todoroki and Midoriya have had experience in fighting side by side, and had absolute faith in one another.

But Izuku Midoriya couldn't help but want to do this one alone. Not because he didn't trust his classmates, but because he felt as though they were approaching this all wrong. What if this really was just a regular guy who got too caught up in something he shouldn't have? Is it right to treat him like a criminal when they don't know anything about him?

No, he can't afford to hesitate. Not now, when one mistake could mean the lives of any of his friends.

So with that, first patrol was taken by the group four, via random selection. Though Izuku was silently hoping that a single patrol was all they needed, because for whatever reason, he wanted to be able to get to him before the others did. He mostly just wanted to talk to this person, because something seriously didn't feel right at all. Not that he could figure out exactly what it was for the life of him.

So here they are now. Izuku has taken the fifth sector zone, his teammates spread out all over the city. Yaoyorozu created some walkie rallies in order to allow them to communicate. Should they be tampered with in any way, it'll send a warning to all the others saying that the signal one one of the talkies has been terminated. They also each brought their own set of arrest tools: capture tape, anti-Quirk handcuffs, a stun gun and a taser, tranquilizers, and an emergency police contact device in order to summon law enforcement at any time. All of which was approved by the teachers of UA, although Aizawa seemed less than pleased. He also had his own walkie talkie in order to alert him of a bad Quirk related situation, and was most likely hanging out in a bar or cafe at the moment.

Aizawa hadn't seemed too thrilled about his role in the investigation. Not that he was ever thrilled about anything. Even so, he didn't seem to want anything to do with this job in particular. Izuku suspected he was on the same boat as himself and Uraraka and thought they should be treating this more like a mysterious sighting instead of a villain case. Aizawa hates wasting his own time, and even in his own underground hero work, he only went after the baddies causing actual harm instead of the ones played up by the media. A pickpocket with a cool, scary Quirk always gets more attention than a serial rapist with a more mundane power, something Aizawa complained about to no end.

Midoriya was supposed to be passing through a shopping district, though he kept getting a bit unfocused, since people were still selling a lot of All Might merchandise over half a year after his retirement. Not that he was complaining, but still, it was kinda jarring seeing his mentor in his larger form when he was already used to the much skinnier one he had come to know.

Which reminded him...

No.

Not now. He refuses to think about that now. He has a job to do, and dammit, if he's going to be the next Symbol of Peace, he has to at least be able to stay on task during patrol.

He shook his head clear just as he was passing by some guy selling All-Might cologne ("A strong smell to make a strong hero!"), which unintentionally made him refuse when said guy tried to offer some to him. Which was all well and good, except he happened to be one of those salesmen who refused to let up.

"C'mon kid, you look a little stressed. Give it a shot?"

Flustered, Izuku tried his best to explain that he was a hero in training and was patrolling the streets for the vigilante on the news and that he really needed to get back to work, only the man didn't want to hear it. Apparently, no one told this guy the main rule of good citizenship and street etiquette: it's simply a huge taboo to interrupt a hero in the middle of their hero work. Not wanting to look rude, Izuku couldn't really just walk away, although he technically had every right to, because honestly, it wasn't that uncommon for people to want to sell their merchandise to influential heroes. Not that he himself was very influential, since he was still a student after all, but this guy didn't seem to care in the slightest.

Eventually, he managed to casually shuffle away from the situation, getting about ten or so meters away before turning on his heel and booking it. He ran for a short distance without looking over his shoulder before finally he stopped to calm himself down. He'd wasted about ten minutes trying to get away, as he found out after checking his watch.

A couple of people were staring at him, all of them obviously concerned and wondering why a teenager was looking like he escaped a crazy stalker. Heat crept up in his face from the base of his neck and the added embarrassment of being the center of way too much attention made it harder to catch his breath, so he quickly ducked into the first building he saw, which happened to be a library.

It was a magnificent library too, so much so that he had to wonder why he'd never visited it before. Although it looked slightly worn down, the shelves were all lined with various different genres of books, and the shelves standing against the wall were tall and held varying sizes of novels. Certain sections were labeled in gold lettering, and among them, Izuku could see that there were many sub-genres amongst them. The floor was lined with a muted dark green and blue checkered carpet, and a rug that seemed to be made out of bear skin was sitting in front of the check out desk, where a middle aged woman was sitting and reading what appeared to be an All Might autobiography with her full attention. The place smelled of fresh paper and melting wax, likely from the candle that was lit in the corner.

There were a couple of tables and beanbags for readers to sit and relax, but there didn't seem to be many actual people in there. It really was a shame that no one appreciated a good book anymore. The only people Izuku noticed in the library were a pair of studious looking female high schoolers that he didn't recognize using computers in the back of the room, a slightly elderly man in the middle of the room reading a cookbook, and someone else that caught his eye.

Someone in the far corner of the room was all but completely hidden behind a stack of books, leaning against the wall and concentrating on a book that was in his right hand, while also scribbling down on a notepad with his left. Izuku almost didn't see him behind the little fortress he had constructed for himself. The kid looked to be about middle school age, no more than thirteen, maybe fourteen, and had on a uniform that Izuku couldn't help but notice was a bit filthy and seemed far too big for him. His hair looked like it had once been groomed neatly but was now matted and unkempt.

Izuku was slightly worried. The kid looked like he had seen better days, to say the least. When the boy looked up to select another book from his pile, he had hollow cheeks and dark circles under his eyes. Probably the weirdest thing about him was the tired but determined look in his eyes, one that made him look four times as old as he actually was. Exactly what he was so focused on was a complete mystery to Izuku.

Suddenly the librarian at the front desk stopped reading long enough to stare over in the boy's general direction, looking like she was debating whether or not she should kick him out. Then she sighed tiredly as she held the book slightly closed, her thumb keeping her spot in the story.

"Hey, kid," she called out, "you've been in here since we opened up, and no offence, but you're disturbing the customers.

Izuku could kind of see where she was coming from. The schoolboy had the exhausted and disheveled appearance that Izuku would normally associate with Aizawa, minus the five o'clock shadow, and the Great Wall of Literature surrounding him made it look like he was anticipating a sudden attack, despite the fact that books obviously wouldn't do anything. Overall, the teenaged burnout looked very unnatural and honestly a little crazy.

Without a word, the kid abruptly stood up. He seemed to take a lot of effort in doing it, too. In a matter of moments, he had stalked over to the lady at the front desk, his stance indicating that he was not happy in the slightest. His posture was a cross between overworked employee and a pompous superior, as he somehow managed to look like he was holding himself up straight despite his shoulders slouching a little.

"What customers?" He asked the lady, his tone dripping with acid and condescension. Izuku took quick note of his heavy American accent. "All I saw throughout the day were five people, and not one of them so much as checked out a single magazine. If you're planning on throwing me out, I hope you realize that I haven't done anything illegal in the slightest, so you'll do well to leave me the hell alone."

Izuku stared. That way of speaking was something he had never heard come out of a thirteen year old's mouth. He had a rather archaic vocabulary, at least in terms of nouns and adjectives, and spoke them in a way that made him sound like a nineteenth century philosopher. But the pronouns he used, both for himself and the lady, inflected a sense of superiority in possibly the rudest way imaginable. Not even Kacchan would dare speak to his seniors in such a way. Well, maybehe would if he was mad enough, but certainly never in such a casual manner.

The woman looked flabbergasted, and Izuku didn't blame her, imagining that the look on his own face was likely very similar. She seemed unable to decide if she was angry at his disrespect or impressed by his formal way of speaking.

And without sparing her a second glance, he spun on his heel and was back to his corner in the blink of an eye.

No, literally, in the blink of an eye. As in, he only had to take one step, and suddenly the space around him started to glow a pale blue, the light enveloping his entire body. A strange warble echoed in the air, and in an instant, he had gone from the checkout desk to the back of the room in less than a second.

Izuku felt frozen.

That blue light. That warping noise. He had seen and heard it all before. Only once, but it hadn't been something he could easily forget. The sight of it made his heart drop to his feet.

Was this fear he was feeling? No, it couldn't be that. He knew what raw fear felt like. This was more like dread, a feeling that was sort of like fear but with a bit of resignation thrown into the mix. Exactly what he was dreading though, he couldn't tell. Was he dreading the inevitable confrontation between himself and this kid, the one whom everyone called the Sorcerer? What'll happen if he can't win? The idea of hurting a kid younger than himself?

That last one seemed close, but he imagined it wasn't quite right. Maybe he was wrong to want to do this alone.

His legs were carrying him forward, like some sort of invisible force. He willed himself to stop but that didn't happen. He only came to a halt when he was standing right above the kid, like a creep.

He managed to get a glimpse at the book cover, which was titled "General Relativity", and also of his notepad. Said notepad had thousands of complex looking equations that looked hastily scrawled in. His hand was currently moving at incredible speeds across the paper, scratching in various numbers and symbols that formed a near mind blowing series of problems, each one looking like something that would take a normal high schooler hours to solve.

Deku swallowed the lump of fear in his throat.

"Excuse me?"

The kid obviously heard him, but was either too absorbed in his work or merely choosing to ignore Izuku. He continued reading and doing equations like it was nothing.

So the hero in training tried again. "E-Excuse me... s-sir?" Somehow he felt that calling this boy "kid" or "young man" wouldn't do well.

"Sir" seemed to finally acknowledge him, but he did so by dropping his book and glaring up at Izuku, a look of impatience and annoyance crossing his face. The hero in training could see that the enigmatic youth had pale green eyes, which were sharp and cold like morning frost.

"What do you want?" He said in a clipped tone.

Izuku hadn't thought that far ahead.

"Um... w-well I was j-just g-going to t-tell you that using-g your Quirk isn't p-permitted in a p-public a-area." God, why did he have to be such a stuttering fool?

The kid regarded him for about three seconds before returning to his book, obviously not caring. In truth, Quirk usage isn't a law that most people take seriously. As long as it doesn't hurt anyone, most people don't care enough to bother not using their power in public. It's a natural part of who they are as people, so it's sometimes necessary to exercise it. Even most cops only ever tell people to knock it off out of obligation. Some don't even bat an eye.

Izuku still didn't know how best to approach the situation. He should've planned for this. Exactly what does he plan on doing?

Probably the best approach, he reasoned, was to gain the boy's trust. If the younger teen felt like he could rely on Izuku, then maybe he'll agree to go to the police station. It's doubtful that law enforcement would punish someone so young, regardless of the violence of his crimes.

But why is a criminal doing algebraic equations in the middle of a public library? For fun?

Did this count as lying? Putting up a front in order to capture someone? He supposed this was par for the course for a hero, but still.

He dropped to his knees so that he was at the same level as the mysterious young stranger, that was apparently the Sorcerer. Trying his best not to stutter as to not sound like the incompetent nervous fool he was, he spoke in a calming, reproachful tone.

"You, uh... you seem a little out of it. Are you okay?"

The Sorcerer, or at least the kid he suspected was The Sorcerer, once again gave him a Look with a capital L, only this time it was with a sense of immense disdain and tired irritation like he was dealing with a loud child bugging him on a plane. "None of your business."

"Oh, okay..." This was going well. "I'm Izuku Midoriya. What's your name?"

The Sorcerer suddenly gripped his book tightly, his shoulders tense. "Why?" Was his terse response.

"Uh..." Yep, going perfect.

"Look, I don't have time for this, boy. Go home now and stop bugging me. I'm busy."

Looks like this wasn't going to work. Still, he had to fish something out of the Sorcerer. So at least, he should stay and continue trying to talk to him.

"Look... I'm sorry if I'm prying, but I just want to know if you're doing okay. You seem tired and look like you could use some help. So will you please just humor me?"

The Sorcerer looked up at him once more, and this time he looked like he was deciding what to say. He exhaled loudly, like a sigh or a scoff, but didn't ignore Izuku, who considered it a win.

"Fine. What do you want?"

Good, he's getting somewhere. "Do you want to tell me your name?"

Apparently he didn't, because this caused him to scowl in a way that reminded the freckled youth very strongly of Kacchan when he was in one of his resentful moods. Still, after about a minute, there was a sharp click of his tongue as well as the sound of a page being flipped.

"Sure."

"Okay... what is it?"

"Five."

"Five..." Izuku repeated, thinking the name had a strangeness to it. He couldn't quite pin it until... "Wait, Five? Like, the number?"

"Yes." The boy— Five— said icily. Izuku's levels of concern shot up a few.

"Um, okay... how old are you?"

There was a heavy pause. It stretched on for a few seconds longer than it should have, and it felt odd that this question still hung in the air; it wasn't that personal. Was it?

"Thirteen." The way Five spat out those words sounded as if they tasted like acid in his mouth.

Something in Izuku's gut squirmed.

"Where is your family?"

That... was the wrong thing to say. Five jolted harshly, his ragged, small body curling into a defensive position, ready for assault. Without looking up this time, he snapped his book shut, and gripped the notepad like a shield.

And just like that, he blinked away again.

•

•

•

Five was at the end of his rope.

He spent nearly the entire day hiding out in a public library, not to mention being subjected to the judgmental stares of confused onlookers and the librarian. He told a couple to take a picture so it would last longer, but that didn't help his case.

Being hungry, tired, filthy, and hurt wasn't exactly a new experience, so Five didn't care much about that. It was annoying, sure, but that was mostly because there were resources all over the place. Restaurants and cafes, hotels and motels, laundromats and department stores; they were everywhere. Back in the end of the world, he could simply take whatever he needed, but of course in a setting like this, you need money. The Commission had decent pay, and they allowed you to convert your money into whatever currency you would be seeing a lot of during your next mission. Because Five completes every job given to him, he always had enough expenses to buy whatever he needed for the mission. Besides, he never stuck around long enough to need anything.

Whatever. All he really cared about was finding the right equations to bring his family back home once he finally found them.

But that was assuming he could find them.

He distracted himself from thoughts like those by immersing himself in all of the scientific theory books he could get his hands on. Most of them were useless for his situation, but at the very least, he could keep his mind sharp. He couldn't afford to slow down. His injuries were starting to take their toll, but he doesn't have a lot of room to work with. For now, he'll just tough it out until he can patch himself up again. Right now, focus on the math. Theories and equations, digits and decimals, a series of unknown variables and questions he didn't have the answers to... his father would be so proud, that smug old prick. Just keep at it, the constant mental gymnastics should pay off at some point.

But then that damn kid had to go and ruin it.

The green haired, bright eyed teenager with the stupid freckles and that reeked of weakness. He couldn't keep his nose out of Five's business, so now here he was.

What was the boy's name again? Izuku? Well, no matter. If that kid tries to follow him, Five will paint the alleyways with his blood.

No, he can't afford more heroes on his back. In that case, he'll just keep warping away. Don't fight if you can't win, Dad always said.

He hated the old man, but Reginald seemed to have the right idea about his fifth kid. Five was probably the favorite out of all his siblings, and he took zero pride in it. The teleporting member of the team was the most mission oriented, the most serious minded, the one most similar to their father. Luther had been rather jealous, at least until they were a little older and the team leader saw that Five wanted no part of what the old man considered "special treatment".

It meant that personal training was hell. Day after day, the most amount of focus was put into making sure Five understood the aspects of his power. Endurance and stamina building, physics lessons that lasted the whole night, learning how to dodge bullets... he still had the scar on his shin.

It wasn't all that surprising that Five was the first of the siblings to take a life.

Maybe that's why he was so desperate to travel through time. So he could find a way to escape the life he hated so much.

Now Five is facing the consequences. Running away from a teenager like a coward, the pain and exhaustion starting to wear at him. His family out there, in danger, wondering why the hell they ever trusted him.

He blinked behind an alley, and waited. Time will tell if he'll need to fight again, when he'll have to kill yet another person.

That woman who had tried to apprehend him the other night. Five had fought her with the intention of knocking her unconscious, but then everything went to shit, and now he's a wanted man. All because he was too weak to avoid killing.

That doesn't matter. His siblings, he reminded himself, were his focus. Everyone else is just an obstacle, and whatever gets in the way of him saving them is a threat that needs to be taken out, eliminated. He's beaten the odds time and time again, odds stacked against him and in the favor of the enemy. He's survived the end of the world, taken out thousands, and kept his head after years of isolation and more years of dirtying his hands with blood. He's already lost everything once, and he is prepared to do it again.

He will survive.

He will win.

No matter what it takes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is also on Wattpad, and I’m planning on making deadlines for myself.


	4. A Warehouse and a Sarcastic Teleportor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s a difference between not needing help and wishing that you didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which a promise is made and Five gets a break, finally.

Izuku hadn't wanted to press the emergency alert button on his walkie talkie. He hadn't wanted to suddenly run out of the store to try and chase down a freaking teleporting criminal either. Yet here he was. Running.

In hindsight, he should have asked Yaoyorozu to make ear pieces instead of walkie talkies. But he supposed that walkie talkies probably were easier for her to make, since her Quirk requires extensive knowledge on molecular structure. Still, he couldn't help but wish that he had a free hand instead of having to use one to speak into his walkie as he ran.

Todoroki was the one that answered the signal, meaning he was the closest.

"Midoriya-kun! What happened?" His voice crackled through the tiny speaker, breathless and forceful with urgency.

"Todoroki-kun, alert the others immediately! I found him! Over!"

"Got it. Over."

"You guys were right. His Quirk allows him to teleport. I think he can only teleport to places he can see with his naked eye. Over."

"You'll need backup? Over."

"Yeah, that'd be ideal, honestly." Because the way this was going, Izuku probably only had a snowball's chance in hell of getting this kid.

As he raced down the street, weaving between people who weren't fast enough to get out of his way, he saw a flash of blue light in a nearby alleyway, and made a beeline straight for it. Todoroki asked for a description, and Izuku gave it to him: early teens, small frame, dark hair, green eyes, wearing an ill fitting middle school uniform, most likely walking with a bit of a limp. When he mentioned that the kid answers to the name "Five", Todoroki seemed to need a second to process that.

Just then, he sees a sudden flash of light out of the corner of his eye, and makes a beeline for it. It turns out that it came from a nearby alley, and Izuku bolted, not wanting to let go of his only chance.

"I think I spotted him, over." He was slightly out of breath at this point, but still had steam left, and darted into the narrow path between the two buildings.

He came to a halt when he saw the dead end.

Panting, he looked around the area. The walls were coated in graffiti, the ground littered with trash, and a stray cat was relaxing on top of a dumpster.

Izuku frowned, frustrated. He knew that trying to pin down a teleporting vigilante would be no easy task, but he'd underestimated the reality of the situation. Someone who could run away without having to exert himself was impossible to catch.

But the boy, Five, had clearly been exhausted. Izuku knew little about him, but all Quirks are physical; he couldn't get far in his condition. So he had to be nearby.

He noticed that the building to his right had a steel door. It wasn't open, but with Five's power, he wouldn't need it to be unlocked.

So he closed his eyes and focused his power.

One For All— Full Cowling

With that, his body started to let out arcs of emerald electricity. In one swift motion, he kicked the door in, and it flew straight off of it's hinges.

Maybe that wasn't the smartest idea, as the resulting crash could probably be heard all across the city, but Izuku didn't care much. He ran inside the building, prepared for a fight that he was sure he'd get.

It was dark inside the building, which could have actually been an old warehouse. It had to be old, because he could hear the faint sound of water from the roof leaking on the floor, an irritating splash as each drop landed in a puddle. He could've sworn that there was also the sound of a scurrying rat, which made him shudder. The place was cold and damp and smelled faintly of mold.

It wasn't as though he was planning on trying to arrest the kid. I mean, if he was underage, the police would be forced to investigate. And he probably has a good reason for doing what he did. Maybe.

God, this was supposed to be simple. Each of his steps took a megaton of effort out of him, his legs felt so heavy. How is he supposed to cuff a scared, injured kid and go home like it didn't happen? Once he does, people will pat him on the back and send him on his way home expecting him to feel proud of himself, all while completely unaware of how messed up this is.

But if he doesn't, how many more people will this kid hurt in an effort to survive? He's not a villain, he shouldn't be getting treated like this, but at the same time, it's just not right to let him go.

There was a small sound of something clicking.

Izuku spun around, eyes searching wildly for the source of the noise, but he couldn't find it. He could've sworn it had been just behind him though. How...?

"Don't move."

Something long and sharp pressed against his throat.

At that moment, Izuku never felt dumber in his whole life, and that was saying something. Of course— the outlawed boy hadn't been running away at all. He'd been luring. Makes sense. If the kid could teleport at will, escaping should have been easy. Instead he chose to bring Izuku to a dark, enclosed space and pick him off.

This wasn't just some scared kid they were dealing with. This was somewhat who knew what he was doing. They'd underestimated their opponent, and that had been a mistake.

The blade dug deeper into his throat, and Izuku froze.

When the teleporting boy next spoke, it was with such frigid commanding that it sent a chill down Izuku's spine.

"Don't move, don't scream, don't try and use your quirk. I'll slit your throat faster than you can blink." As if to make his point, he shifted the blade and pointed the tip at the bottom of Izuku's chin. It pierced through the skin, and a droplet of blood fell to the floor with a drip. "Tell me who else knows your here."

The hero in training could barely answer him because of the knife at his neck, but he spoke anyways. "F-four others are l-looking f-for us." He stammered out. "Th-they d-don't know our e-exact l-loc-location though."

He got the distinct impression that the boy was nodding. "Well then. Looks like we'll just have to take a little walk." This time his voice was of mocking superiority. "Here's the deal, friend: if you want to keep that heart of yours beating a few extra minutes, you'll do as I say and won't make a fuss. Right now, I'm a little on edge, as I'm sure you can imagine. I have a mission to carry out, and I'm not gonna let some white knighting, savior complex fuckwits get in my way. Of course, if you'd rather be eviscerated, that's up to you."

"N-no."

"Perfect. Glad we can understand each other."

Just then, there was a weight being removed from his belt. His assailant removed the walkie talkie and threw it to the side, and it skittered uselessly on the concrete.

"What are you doing to do?" Izuku asked with an edge in his voice.

"I'm going to make a little bargain. Your life is in my hands, now."

He felt his stomach loop itself into a knot upon hearing those words. He screwed up, and his friends were going to pay for it! What kind of hero was he?

"Walk with me. Try anything funny and I'll shoot."

So they walked. Izuku wasn't sure where they were headed, since all he could see was a vast stretch of darkness. Their feet echoed loudly against the concrete. A couple of times he felt himself slow down, only for the kid to press the barrel of the pistol into the back of his head and shove him forward.

"You can't beat them." Izuku warned. "My friends, I mean. They've all trained hard for situations like this."

"Yeah?" The Sorcerer scoffed. "So have I."

As Izuku began to ponder the unfortunate implications of that statement, he began to notice how the boy was breathing raggedly. The steps began to falter a little, and occasionally he would hear small grunts of exhaustion. He's injured.

Indeed, they made it to what appeared to be an office of sorts, albeit an abandoned one, and Izuku was promptly told to sit down against the wall. No sooner than he did, his captor slumped down next to him, face screwed up tight with pain.

The office still had a desk and some metal cabinets, but nothing else at all. It was barely big enough to be called an office at all. Once upon a time it had clearly been a designated workspace, but now it was barren.

Izuku looked over at the boy, and through the darkness he saw a small hand clenching an arm and a tiny frame hunched defensively in a ball. It was only now that the hero in training could smell the faint, sour scent of blood.

"Are you okay?" He asked concernedly, because he was a hero and this was a kid that got hurt somehow, an eighth grader at the very most. How did the heroes allow something like this to happen? A kid on the run, hurting those who can't be bothered to be kind.

"I'm fine." The boy snapped at him.

Silence.

Eventually, he tried again. "You seem hurt."

"No shit." He suddenly took something out of his pocket, a needle attached to some thread. Then he rolled up his sleeve.

Izuku nearly gasped. There was a long, deep wound on the kid's forearm. It looked several days old, but was crusted with dried blood and seemed to still be bleeding. Far from scabbing over, it was wide open and some of the muscle seemed to be exposed.

As a hero in training, he's seen many wounds and various amounts of gore during internship level rescue missions. He even received some of his own (not counting his first year when he was constantly grinding his bones into dust). But the disturbing part about this particular gash wasn't the depth, but that the middle schooler didn't look fazed in the slightest.

And then Izuku's stomach lurched as said middle schooler stuck the needle through his own skin.

The wounded boy let out a hiss of agony, but gritted his teeth and continued. It looked like hell, but that didn't stop him from closing up part of the cut with a painful tug. Already he was sweaty and blanching slowly, and yet he stuck the needle in a second time. Now he had two stitches, but as he went in for the third, his hand shook violently.

Izuku couldn't take it anymore. "Let me."

He reached out, but the hurt kid flinched and held his mutilated arm close to his own chest, glaring.

But then the green haired hero gently removed the needle and thread from the other's hand, and then the arm was reluctantly extended. He didn't stop glowering though, just pressed his mouth into a thin line, likely to keep himself silent.

Two minutes later, the wound was sutured and bandaged fully. They both leaned back against the wall, and sat in awkward silence, neither one sure of what to say or where to go from here.

Izuku spoke again. "So... about your name."

The younger boy spoke quickly. "I wasn't lying."

Oh. So his name actually is Number Five. For some reason, Izuku thought he had been joking or something, but apparently not.

Again, silence. Five bit the inside of his cheek, and when he next spoke, it was with the tone of someone who no longer cared what happened to them.

"I bet you're wondering why I killed them."

The statement was so straightforward that the hero had no idea what to say. So he just nodded meekly.

"Well, the first three were self defense. I was minding my own damn business when I saw them beating up on some girl. They saw me, and I guess didn't want witnesses, so they attacked me." A smirk lined his features. "They got what they fucking deserved."

Izuku had nothing to say to that, so he just kept silent again.

"As for that bitch in the spandex? That was an accident, really." He leaned into his knees, still smirking. "I only meant to knock her out, but then she had me cornered. My instincts kicked in, and I snapped her neck."

Something crawled inside his stomach like a worm upon hearing that.

Five hung his head, the smirk vanishing. "...I didn't mean to."

Izuku was tempted to reach his hand out and grab Five's, but he knew the smaller boy would probably sink his teeth into it or something. He still scooted a little closer, just in case. Sure enough, Five's body went tense, but he didn't move away.

"Things haven't been very fair to you, haven't they?" The young hero asked.

Five snorted harshly, "When has anything ever been fair? This is life; it's one huge fucking mess and we can't do shit about it."

He couldn't argue that, so he didn't. Instead, he turned and leaned his shoulder on the wall. "I could help you. We could argue cases of self defense, you'd just need to give a testimony—"

"I can't." The brunette interrupted.

Izuku blinked. "Why not?"

"Because I don't have any time for that bullshit. I'm kind of on a time crunch."

"...Time crunch?"

Five sighed. "I'm looking for someone. Well, more like multiple people. Their lives, and my own, could be on the line here."

Now the older boy felt a stab of deep sympathy. _No wonder you're so distant_ , he thought. Anyone would be if people they cared about were in danger. He wondered if this boy in front of him was feeling the frustration and anxiety that Izuku associated with worrying about a loved one. He also wondered if, maybe, there was a reason he was doing it himself.

He decided to ask, "Why don't you let the heroes find them?"

Once again, Five gave a derisive laugh. "As if I'm letting a bunch of glory seeking attention whores look for them. They'll only care about how it'll impact them." He paused, before adding, "Besides, I can't afford to go to the authorities at the moment."

That... made sense, Izuku conceded. But the whole glory seeker thing... why did he think like that? Did he just not trust heroes? Was there something else he wasn't mentioning? Did he maybe have a bad experience with a hero? People like Endeavor roaming the streets, it's bound to happen to someone.

"Hey Five?"

He looked up. "What?"

"I'll help you find them. And I'll get the others to help too."

There was a moment where nothing at all was said. Everything, even the air, remained still. Time seemed frozen, locked in place, as Five processed what was just stated, and Izuku waited for a response with his breath held.

Five shifted. "...I don't know."

"Don't be like that. I'm a hero. Helping people is what we do."

A scoff. "You're a hero. Right. You're like, twelve."

"I'm sixteen!"

"Whatever."

Admittedly though, Izuku was rather short for his age, and young looking. He looked like he could go to school with Five, if Five even goes to school. Which, let's be honest, he probably doesn't.

The elder of the two merely spoke with more confidence. "Who is it that you're looking for?"

No response. Izuku wondered if he was even going to get an answer.

Then, a sigh.

"My family. It's my family."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might take a while for another update to happen, but don’t worry, this is far from the end. Happy holidays :)


	5. What Happens In the Future, Stays In the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But really, at this point, that’s all out the window.

Shoto Todoroki was never one to panic.

To be frank, he never saw the point in it. After years of dealing with his shitty old man, he's learned how to stay calm under pressure and fight his own fear. Swallowing fear comes way more naturally to him than it should. As does keeping up a stoic demeanor that is necessary for all missions like this.

This time was different.

When Midoriya suddenly stopped responding, and without saying that he'd be going radio silent, he felt a wave of anxiety knock him flat. It felt like Hosu all over again. He remembered the feeling of seeing that text message, a simple address with no other context. Midoriya's texts tended to be paragraphs in length, so the short message was enough to give Shoto pause. Far from just an address, to him it looked more like a scream for help.

He'd abandoned the internship with his dad without so much as a second glance. Saving his friend was way more important to him.

Just like right now. Saving his friend was the only thing that mattered to him.

Upon trying to make contact again and again and getting nothing but static, he asked the others to try for him. No such luck, and it was starting to get clear that something bad had happened. And when he realized that... well, there's a first time for everything, and that moment was probably the first time in his life he felt true, genuine panic.

When his mother poured boiling water over his face, he felt nothing but despair, pain, and a sense of betrayal. Whenever his stupid father called him in for "training", he felt dread, and then resignation. Different forms of fear, but never panic.

Except now.

Now the idea of losing the one person who never left his side since that fateful day, the one person who broke through to him when he had most needed it, was too much to bear, and now he was only keeping it together for the sake of that same person, who would undoubtedly refuse to give up if their positions were reversed.

_"It's yours! YOUR QUIRK, NOT HIS!"_

_...What?_

_At that moment, everything was lost on him. The biting cold, the burning of his lungs, the numbness of his right arm and leg. None of that registered to his brain in that moment. He felt light, and chained down to the ground at the same time, like a tethered balloon. Strangely, his whole body seemed to ache. Ache like his bones were on fire._

_Fire._

_How could he be so stupid?_

_He remembered being a little kid, no more than about four or five. His mother's arm was securely wrapped around his shoulder, her warmth enveloping his whole being. They sat in front of a television, as All Might explained in an interview how children's Quirks are often a byproduct of their parents, but that it didn't mean that the power in question was anyone else's but their own._

_Shoto's flames, not his. It didn't matter what he felt about his father. His left side could be used to save lives, but somehow, he forgot that. He forgot that being a hero is about giving it all you've got, in order to reach the top. Saving those without the strength to save himself._

_In his blind hatred, he suppressed his strength out of spite. A mistake that could have gotten someone killed. Like back at the USJ, when he could have taken out at least ten of the villains in two seconds, but chose to hold back. Had it been a more serious situation, would he have continued half-assing it? Even if it meant someone getting maimed? Or worse, killed?_

_No. Not anymore. He won't act like a coward for any longer than he already has. He won't._

_"Become the hero you want to be."_

_And just like that, everything lit up._

•

•

•

"Remind me again why you're giving me a ride on your back?"

Indeed, after being hauled to his feet by Izuku (or "Deku", apparently— a code name, he had surmised), Five was being forced onto the older teen's back like an oversized school bag. He supposed that it was for the best given horrendous shape, but the time traveler couldn't help but feel a minute amount of indignation upon being given a piggy back ride like some sort of five-year-old. He was the older one, dammit!

But then again, it's not like he could just tell Deku that he was actually almost sixty. Five had resolved to cross that bridge when they got there.

"Look, Five, you're injured. Badly. I know what you said about your pain tolerance, but you'll drop dead by tomorrow if you keep going the way you are."

Well, there was no arguing with that. The room was, admittedly, spinning like a top, and his whole body throbbed, particularly the wounds on his left arm and midsection, as well as the broken toe in his right foot and the very likely concussion he had at the moment. They hadn't healed in the slightest after spending quite a few days wandering around the streets, always on the run and not receiving any proper medical treatment. He tried, of course, but of course, some injuries can't be fixed on your lonesome.

Five dazedly remembered stumbling around in the apocalypse, when he was genuinely thirteen years old and still recovering from the shock of being stuck in a wasteland with no possible way out. The miserable heat that made him sweat bullets, ash clinging to his clothes and sticky skin, and every once in a while causing him to choke and gag on the black soot. The bitter cold nighttime making his hands and feet numb and his sleep restless and fitful. Most of all though, he remembered having to push through all the pain. Whether it be physical or mental, internal or external, minor or major. A sprained ankle from tripping on debris. Bruises and scratches on his knees and arms. Burns from fires he got too close to. Frostbite from those cold nights. Fevers sprung from infection and exhaustion. Food poisoning from that one spoilt Twinkie (endless shelf life his ass) or an undercooked rat. Impaled foot from a rusted nail. Just about everything that could kill you, would kill you, or at the very least would try. All kinds of injuries and sicknesses had given him hell in those early years, when he was still a teenager growing in a world that was long gone.

He wondered if he ever grew past that stage in his life.

Sometimes he wonders what kind of person he would have become if not for the accident with his powers that led to his isolation, the run-in with the Commission, and his overwhelming desire to see his stupid, beloved siblings again. Would he have grown up to be just like his brothers and sisters, emotionally stunted man children with no sense of priorities? Would he have been the same way he is now, tired and stubborn? Would he have gone insane (more than he already did) and given up on seeing his family ever again? Would he have spent the rest of his golden years as nothing more than a tool, a weapon? Somehow, he didn't know and didn't want to know.

He supposed that dwelling on what could have happened isn't anywhere near as important as focusing on what is happening.

He hadn't realized that they were approaching the outside until the door was meters away, still half open from when Deku had smashed it open. Light was filtering in from the crack, and Five grimaced as the sun hit his face, burning his eyes.

Deku said something to him, but he didn't hear it for some reason. No, he knows the reason; his head hurts way too badly, and noise is one huge bitch to process right now.

The kid repeats himself. "Hey, are you okay?"

Five groans. "Fan-fucking-tastic."

"You'll have to tell me more about your family if you want my help in finding them. Maybe I could get a description?"

Five _didn't_ want this brat's help in finding his family, but he did need it. He'd been searching rather aimlessly for a week now, and has found next to nothing. The closest thing he found to a clue was a police report indicating that they were, at the very least, in Japan at the moment. Still, that report was filed quite a few days before Five had found it, and knowing his idiot siblings, they would probably go out of their way to move around as much as possible. Any other circumstances, and the time traveler could excuse this as caution, but considering that all it did for him was make his job harder, he couldn't help but want to find them just for the sake of collectively ripping off each of their toenails.

A guy can dream.

"Five?"

He snapped out of his thoughts. "Later."

Deku didn't at all seem satisfied with that, but made no effort to push the conversation any further.

They made their way down the street, which was thankfully very empty. Each step felt like a speed bump, the rockiness jostling Five and causing his wound intense aggravation. He gripped Deku's shoulders tightly, trying to bite back the irritation as his injuries stung and itched, thousands of invisible maggots eating away at his flesh and bones.

"Hang in there, Five," Deku muttered, rather unhelpfully, "we aren't far, I promise."

"Shut up."

He promptly shut up.

Ultimately, he'd have to find some method of taking everyone home. He didn't have any sort of time travel briefcase, and he was hoping to hell that he wouldn't run into the Commission for a good long while, so that was our. Though he doubted that they'd trust him to use his time travel powers after the last time that worked out, he may not have a choice.

He hadn't felt this drained, both physically and mentally, since he was sent out on a mission to kill Hitler. Had to make the whole thing look like a suicide, and more often than not, that's exceptionally difficult. Though thinking about it made him think of a time when his pea brain brother wanted to slit the German man's throat with a butter knife, of all things. It was equal parts ironic, exasperating, and completely predictable.

 _"Imagine Batman, then aim... lower."_ He had told Elliot after being inquired about Diego. He stands by that description. The reckless fool.

...Fucking hell, he's getting all emotional and shit again. Block it out, for God's sake! The objective remains the priority, and you can't meet any objective if you're dwelling on past emotions. That was always rule number one in the Academy. Keep it together. For their sake, he can't afford to be hindered. There'll be time for all that gooey feelings crap later.

He was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he initially failed to notice that Deku stopped walking entirely. He only caught on once he was no longer able to feel the painful jostling he'd been putting up with until now.

He almost asked what was wrong, but he didn't have to.

Six men were surrounding them.

Well, five men. One of them was a woman. All of them wore jet black uniforms, fancy suit and tie outfits with slick, well groomed blazers and white button ups underneath. They each had a steel gray pin clinging to their collar, a small symbol depicting a miniature clock with a big round C in the middle. They were of different ages, the youngest in his early thirties and the oldest looking around the same age as Five himself chronologically was, wisps of thinning hair still clinging to his scalp, but only barely. Each of them carried some manner of vicious looking gun, which Five vaguely recognized as three AK-47's, two Colt M4 carbines, and an MP5/10 submachine gun. Part of him felt a little spark of jealousy upon glancing at those glorious weapons, though he'd never admit it out loud.

Honestly, Five probably should have guessed something like this would happen. He wanted to avoid getting his hands dirty; having cops on his ass (more than they already were) would only make his objective that much harder, and hell knows that being locked up in some cold, isolated cell is the last thing he needs. But what goes around comes around, and people can and will always look for revenge when they can. He wonders if The Handler has any influence even after her death, and the thought makes him a bit sick.

Five would rather not fight, given the extent of his injuries, but adrenaline and training will just have to push him on. Hopefully he can wait until after he's won to pass out.

The oldest man, who is obviously in charge of this group, speaks in an authoritative manner, with a hint of a low snarl that Five supposed he thinks is menacing.

"Alright, Freckles." He addressed Deku. "We're here for the kid. Put him down and walk away, and you won't get hurt."

Five sighed, and was just about to slide off of Deku's back, when suddenly the teen's grip on the older-younger man tightened like a vice. Five said nothing, though he did wince a little since the green kid's nails were digging into his sore muscles on his legs.

"No." Was his blunt reply.

And, well, color him impressed, the damn kid actually sounded a bit threatening.

This’ll be a disaster.

•

•

•

Izuku felt a burning sensation throughout his chest. It seemed to start from his heart, then spread out across his lungs and settled into his ribs, before sinking down to his gut. He wasn't sure exactly what to call it, but it felt very, very familiar. In fact, there were a couple of specific situations that he'd felt this way.

The first was when he was at the USJ, and All Might, unbeknownst to the other students, was almost helpless, and in need of help from someone, anyone.

The second was when he had run around all of Hosu in search of Iida, whom he just knew was trying to confront the Hero Killer, Stain.

The third was during the training camp raid, when he had frantically rushed to save Kota from Muscular.

And the fourth was when he had confronted the yakuza leader, Overhaul, in defense of little Eri, who had clung to him desperately and begged him not to leave her.

Right now, those feelings were returning, only tenfold.

The man in front of him, the one in the lead, only looked amused. He spoke in Japanese, but it was somewhat accented with something faint and vaguely European.

“We do not want to hurt you, boy. Hand him over to us quietly, and no one will.”

“Yeah?” Izuku shot back. “What about him?”

He jerked his head to the boy on his back, who was watching the scene unfold grimly, breath ragged and rough. Whether he was simply tired or in the midst of panic, Izuku did not know.

“He is to come with us. If you do not with an ill fate upon yourself, you will hand him over and walk away, understood?”

Now Izuku was getting pissed. “What the hell do you want with him?!”

“Number Five Hargreeves has committed numerous crimes against the Commission. For this, he must be punished.”

This made Izuku pause. What could a kid have possibly done to warrant a group of men armed like a SWAT team to come after him? Wait, scratch that. Five had already killed four people in just a handful of days, so it probably shouldn’t be out of the question for him to pull off other crimes. Even so, wasn’t this a little much?

He felt a voice close to his ear speak lowly.

“Deku,” whispered Five, “you can’t beat them. They know what they’re doing. Just leave it to me.”

Is he crazy?! Izuku wanted to shout to the boy, thinking he could take on so many in his state, but then he thought twice about it.

He could be right. He knows next to nothing about these people, what they’re quirks are, or anything else. But Five does, and he’s saying to not engage. The last thing he needs is to get involved in a fight he might not be able to win.

What are you, a coward? A sneering voice in the back of his head taunts.

Five, still huffing and puffing, doesn’t give him a chance to say anything. “You don’t know what you’re doing, kid. Just go.”

Go? How could Five say that? Injured, tired, weakened Five, who can barely walk on his own. The tone in his voice indicated something more than just vindication. He seemed to be trying to convince himself more than Izuku.

He’s supposed to be the Deku who never gives up. What kind of hero would he be if he just left things to someone else?

Izuku’s body lit up with emerald sparks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the support! All of my work is being read and appreciated by people like you, and it makes me so happy to know that.
> 
> Stay tuned to find out what happens next.


	6. Not Bothering To Hide the Body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Should’ve just stabbed em.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five kills a man, but let’s be honest it was gonna happen eventually.

Five didn't need to travel into the future to see that this kid was in over his head.

For a while, he's been wondering something. If there exists a future where other people outside the academy were born with powers, why didn't he see anyone like that working for The Commission? Logically speaking, if he really did stop the apocalypse, than there'd exist a timeline in which there were people who could levitate or read your mind or something. And considering how he himself was valued by the higher ups because of his ability, it's unlikely they wouldn't take that opportunity when they saw it.

It later dawned on him that he may or may not have accidentally created a whole new timeline simply by not letting the world end.

Or at the very least, he created a singularity in each timeline in which someone, be it himself, his siblings, or any other random person who knew about the apocalypse would try and stop it. He surmised that maybe that's why he and his siblings ended up in the "Sparrow Academy universe", as he called it. Reginald Hargreeves collected an entirely different group of kids to save the world instead of the group of kids who ended up causing it. Because of this change, the universal singularity was blown out of the water. So by creating that timeline, Five and the others also created thousands of other timelines in which someone managed to save the world.

Of course, now that there was no crazy bottle blond bitch in charge of The Commission, he knew that there was an even lower chance of them collecting powered individuals. After the disaster that she created with Lila and the fact that he single handedly slaughtered the original board members, he doubted they'd want any more "quirks" to deal with. Two had been enough to deal with.

Regardless, somehow he knew that they didn't really need superpowers. After all it doesn't matter how strong you are when you can just shoot someone. And no one except himself was fast enough to dodge bullets.

Then again, Vanya could deflect them, Diego could redirect them, and Luther could straight up tank them if he wanted to. Loathe was he to admit it, but The Handler had the right idea.

But considering it was him they were after, he knew that they probably sent the top of the brass. Strength, speed, power, none of that mattered when faced with someone of higher skill and experience, and guns.

So Five decided that he'd have to help out a little. Just here and there though, enough to be useful but not drain himself.

Izuku had set him gently on the ground behind a mailbox and taken a defensive stance in front of the younger older man. Naturally, the guys in black wasted no time in blasting bullets their way.

Figuring this kid probably never dealt with this kind of situation, Five merely poked his head out and watched the ensuing chaos.

•

•

•

Villains rarely use guns anymore. Honestly, it's hard to understand why, since a lot of heroes are nowhere near fast enough to dodge a bullet, but Izuku wasn't complaining.

Well, he was now, since it meant he had little experience in dealing with a one sided shootout of any degree.

Having already powered up One For All, he ran in a sharp zigzag pattern and headed for the guy in the middle. When he reeled his fist back, the man predictably raised his gun, but he used his other arm to quickly knock it to the side, and the shots embedded themselves into the side of a building.

One swift kick in the face later, the man had a broken nose on the pavement. This didn't seem to deter him much though, as he got right back up and rolled away. More shots rang out, but he simply dived for the next person who happened to be closest to him.

There was a sudden, sharp stinging pain in his left hip as he pinned down a woman in a suit, and he saw that someone had clipped him. He spun around and darted to the side, doing whatever he could to keep his assailant from getting a clear shot.

He ended up right behind the second woman, and gave her a swift knee in the back. She let out a gasp and flew right into the other girl, who had been trying to recover from his tackle, and they fell into a pile on the concrete.

It went like this for a while, with him going around and making sure everyone he knocked down stayed down, but they were far more resilient than he gave them credit for. They kept getting back up. Like cockroaches, they just kept coming back, again and again.

And these people were after one boy. One kid who is injured and in need of help. And they're trying to kill him? This isn't right, on so many levels, and Izuku isn't going to stand for this, at all.

It seems like forever, but eventually, he's sure that he's managed to down them all, at least temporarily. Good, they should be alright for at least another few minutes or so. Which means all he has to do now is grab Five, who he really hopes is still behind the mailbox, and then get the fu—

Click.

Behind him, a gun was being raised, level with his head. He whipped around just in time for the old man with the bloody nose to snarl at him and pull the trigger.

BANG.

He had thrown his arm up, despite knowing it would do probably nothing, waiting for the end to come.

But he felt nothing. No pain, no sensation of dying (whatever that felt like) and cautiously opened his eyes and peered out from behind his arm.

The guy collapsed to his knees, blood spewing from a bullet wound through his heart. He let out a choked gurgling sound, trying and failing to gasp for air as blood filled his lungs. A brief moment in time passed where he realized just what was happening, before his eyes glazed over and he fell to the ground, lifeless.

Izuku felt like he was the one who'd been shot in the heart. Time was frozen, everything stuck in place as he registered what just happened.

Fighting the overwhelming urge to throw up, his eyes desperately searched for the culprit, frantic to find them.

Just then, Five stepped out of his hiding place. "Guess he's not getting a pay raise," was all he said, his voice tired and devoid of humor.

Izuku might be sick.

"Wh-what h-happened?" Was all he could choke out.

Five still looked and sounded tired. He was clutching his wounded arm and limped over to the soon-to-be-hero with a heaviness in each step. "I teleported the bullet behind him."

Izuku nodded numbly. He supposed that if this kid could teleport himself, he'd also be able to teleport objects into different places as well. It made sense, really, but it didn't make sense, it doesn't make sense at all how this boy was so callous about it. Did Five not care that he just killed a man?

No, wait, Five already killed four people before now. He'd forgotten about that already.

Such a small kid, and already a ruthless killer. Who was Five, really? Did Izuku really know anything about this kid? Of course not! He just decided to help this random American middle schooler without thinking about how he would do that. Or anything, really. How far was Five willing to go? To save his family, to defend himself, to achieve his goals? Those were the questions he wanted the answers to, and yet it seemed like the boy was more of an enigma with each passing minute.

Still.

Five was a kid. A kid being hunted by men in suits with guns and murderous intent. Five was a kid looking for his brothers and sisters, lost and alone, but determined all the same. Five had shot a guy (sort of) to save Izuku.

Five needed his help.

"...I suppose," Five sighed, "maybe I need to explain some things."

•

•

•

Momo had gone along with Todoroki to find Midoriya. Tokoyami and Jirou were both on their way, but had taken the liberty of scouting the area to see if they could find him nearby.

None of them said it, but they all knew that Todoroki was the most frantic.

Which surprised her, not because she thought he didn't care, because he obviously did, but because he wasn't the type of person to panic over anything. He'd always seemed so calm and collected in her eyes, always at the head of the pack, always knowing what to do. Like a pillar, he'd always stood his ground, and it was inspiring for the others.

But as time went on, she saw that was far from the truth. He wasn't the beacon of power that she thought he was, but not in a bad way, never in a bad way. She guessed that she'd put him on a bit of a pedestal, being that he was likely the strongest of the class (debatably; she was still trying to gauge Midoriya's overall ability, which she could only describe as frustratingly vague), and while she had looked up to him, it also made herself feel inadequate. Being that they were two of four recommended students in the hero course, she found that she was constantly comparing herself to him, and not measuring up in her own eyes.

But as their first year came to a close, and she got to know her classmates better, she realized that he wasn't as perfect as her fantasies had made him out to be. He made a lot of mistakes, he sometimes had to rely on others, he felt his own share of inadequacies. She's fairly certain that he still does, even now when he's grown considerably.

Either way, Momo resolved to stop beating herself down. She couldn't be a hero by sulking for not being good enough. No, she had to make it so that she was good enough.

They came across a narrow street, one that was reserved for shops and festivities rather than cars. Down the road, they could make out some odd black shapes on the ground. Some of them seemed to be moving slightly, while others were painfully still.

Todoroki shot off like a rocket towards them, his right hand coated in a sheen of frost— a telltale sign that he was agitated. His right side always gives more away than his face.

Momo quickly followed him, taking care to avoid the small patches of ice that his footsteps were leaving behind. It's times like these where she wishes that May 1st would come sooner. May first is supposed to be when they update their hero costumes, and she can't wait to get the hell out of these heels. Honestly, why would a costuming agency for hero uniforms give her such impractical shoes?

By the time she makes it, Todoroki was already on his knees checking something, and she saw that the black shapes were people, just as she suspected. Right now, the half-and-half boy was pressing two of his fingers against the neck of a man who looked about the same age as Aizawa-sensei. When the man stirred, they both took a cautious step back.

Or, they took a step back, and then Todoroki took another step forward and promptly hauled the guy into a sitting position.

Momo took the time to check around. All of the people here wore some form of black suit, even the women, and none of them were conscious, at least not fully. Both women were in a heap next to each other, and two of the men were crumpled on top of one another like they had crashed into each other or something.

Then she spotted another man lying face down on the pavement. He wasn't moving, and there was a fresh pool of blood under his chest. A lot of blood. Way too much.

Way too much.

It took her less than a moment to be at his side, and she was turning him over onto his back, her eyes landing on the horrific exit wound on his chest.

This can't be happening.

That is her only thought.

Because it can't be happening.

This isn't real. It just isn't. There's no way this is real. He has to still be alive. He has to. There must be something she can do, there has to be something, she can't just sit here while he bleeds out in front of her—

She's about to be sick.

"Yaoyorozu-san?"

A firm hand lands on her shoulder. It's cold to the touch, which brings her out of her panic.

"That man is already dead." Todoroki's stoic and unwavering voice is like a rock in the middle of a stormy sea. She feels the sharp pain in her stomach dissipate slowly.

"I-I... I know." She mutters shakily.

"The guy I just spoke to, he says he saw where Midoriya went."

That grabbed her attention. She stood up from the grisly scene, spinning around to face her two toned friend. "Really?"

"Yes. I didn't get much out of him other than that, but it's all we need right now."

She nods in understanding. Only when he's walking along the street does she register that she should probably follow him, and she does.

Momo knows that death is something that happens in hero work. She vaguely recalls seeing Midoriya heading towards the door one morning with mist in his eyes, and learning that he was heading to a funeral for the hero he'd been interning under. She'd wanted so desperately to say something at that moment, to provide him some comfort, something more than a lame "I'm sorry" and a pitying look. But she simply couldn't.

How pathetic was she?

In the end, maybe it's for the best she confront the reality of her future career sooner rather than later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support so far!


	7. I Need A Damn Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What doesn’t kill you makes you really wish it did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A calm discussion, or as calm as someone like Five can be.

Five didn't like the idea of spilling his entire story to a kid he literally just met an hour ago, but at times like these, sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith. Off a cliff. With no parachute. Okay, maybe this was a mistake.

Too late now though. The Izuku boy was apparently stuck between being completely discombobulated and asking as many questions as possible, as quickly as possible. He took most of everything in stride, which is likely because they're in a world where a man with a dinner plate for a face could walk down the street and no one would bat an eye. He saw a teenager with a speech bubble where his head should be checking out a book the other day. A speech bubble.

At the moment, the two of them were taking refuge in an Internet cafe, though at the moment there seemed to be rather few people around. The cafe owner was a man long past his golden years, and his employees were all in a state of exhaustion in which the brain runs on autopilot, preventing them from actually being able to listen to any outside conversations. They still sat at a booth in the far corner, just in case. Five knows that people can be watching or listening at any time, in any place.

"So you can jump through space and time?!" The spandex suited kid demanded with a new vigor. Honestly it was a huge difference how he was acting now versus the pathetically timid fetus from earlier. "How does it work? Can you send someone else through time? Do you need to know all the mathematical formulas for teleporting? Man, I wish I had my notebook—"

"Are you even listening to me?" Five bit at him scathingly. "Pay attention, you motor-mouthed brat."

Said brat let out a squeak. "S-Sorry!"

"Now do you understand the sheer gravity of our situation? The world could end at any day now, and if it does, I have no way of stopping it at all."

The fact finally seemed to sink in for Izuku, whose face paled into a sheet-white color as his eyes grew as big as saucers. It would have been funny, if Five was the kind of person who ever actually laughed or smiled. However, his sense of humor was admittedly restricted to sarcastic quips and caustic remarks, and as Klaus would put it, he "wouldn't know humor if it slapped its own ass and did a Russian squat in front of him". Five was pretty sure that Klaus must've gotten that analogy from somewhere, but knew better than to pry any further.

"Okay," the hero kid attempted to recollect his thoughts, "so let me see if I got this right so far. You're from the past."

"Yeah."

"You're looking for your siblings because they could help you save the world."

"Yeah."

"You need help saving the world because it may or may not end at some point."

"Yes."

"And these Commission people, they want the world to end, and they're trying to stop you."

"Uh-huh."

"You're also a retired hitman, and that's why they hate you?"

"Correct."

"...Anything else?"

Five nodded grimly. "I'm fifty-eight."

"What?"

He gave a soft, mirthless laugh. "Time travel is a crapshoot. I went into the ice and never acorn-ed."

"...What?"

A rough shake of the head. "Sorry, never mind. Look, you wanna know what the end of the world looks like? What I had to go through to see my family again? Despite what the adults are telling you zygotes, the future isn't gonna be all sunshine and rainbows. It's shit. Pure, unadulterated shit."

"How would you know any of that?"

Five froze, which didn't go unnoticed. He knew this moment was going to happen, he just didn't know when, exactly.

"Five?"

He was hoping the kid would say that he didn't want to hear it. Because frankly, who wants that kind of knowledge? He spent so long in that wasteland, tired and scared, wanting nothing more than to see his family again, and just telling the story might send the kid into a downward spiral of horror and pity.

He distinctly remembered the first few nights or so, when his genuinely thirteen-year-old self first arrived in nothingness. He'd spent the first night freezing cold and sobbing his eyes out, clutching the false eye he'd gotten from his brother's cold, stiff fingers. Everything he'd taken for granted was gone, burnt to ash by the fires or buried under rubble. He'd prayed that Vanya and Ben, whom he hadn't found near his other siblings, had somehow survived and were looking for him. Obviously he gave up on Ben once he found the book, but it took him a solid twenty years for him to accept that if Vanya was alive, he'd never find her.

No, he didn't want to remember those times, and he certainly didn't want some kid to have to hear the horrors of the apocalypse. He won’t divulge.

But...

Izuku's face was set, and was becoming paler by the second. Despite this, his dark green orbs were locked with Five's lighter green. Of course he recognized that expression. He could almost always imagine that it was how he himself looked at that age: full of despair and terror, yet all the same, ready for what's to come. When you're not sure what you have to lose, so you're only option is to dive in head first. The water is cold, murky, and torrential, but you take what you can get.

He wants to understand.

And besides, if he makes himself seem pitiable and vulnerable, it might increase his chances of getting assistance with his mission.

So Five purged on. He explained how he had foolishly, stupidly jumped into the future, and was unable to go back. He explained how all life had been destroyed— mangled, charred corpses being the only people left on earth. He explained that there was nothing but ash and ruins, the only living creatures being the rats that had taken refuge underground and the cockroaches that refused to die. How he had to eat them, sometimes raw, in order to live. The pain of realizing that he was truly by himself, and no one was coming to save him, no matter how badly he prayed. The walking, endless walking. The unbearable heat, the miserable cold, the agonizing hunger. The fevers, wounds, and bone melting exhaustion. How he'd spent forty years completely alone. Utterly alone.

How badly he'd missed his mansion, with its wonderful walls and climate control, roof and beds, food and medicine and water and all the things he wished he had.

How much he wanted to hear his mother call his name in her warm tone (he didn't care that she was an android, she was human to him) and nurse his illnesses and injuries.

How much he wished Pogo would scold him for not taking care of himself.

How much he wanted Luther's dictator-like leadership to guide him through the pain.

How much he missed Diego's frustrated voice stuttering in his ear, as annoying as he was.

How much he needed Allison's irritatingly motherly warmth.

How much he hated that he no longer got to be hugged by Klaus.

How much he yearned to have intellectual conversations with Ben, who seemed to be the only sibling smart enough to keep up with Five, if just barely. He was the favorite brother of the four.

And how a day didn't go by where he wanted nothing more than to have Vanya throw her arms around him, to listen to the melodies of her violin, to tell her that she is special, she'll always be special to him.

Okay, so he didn't actually share that much, but it did feel like it. He kept the parts about his family and home to himself (though he wouldn't realize until later that the things he thought didn't coincide with the things he said), wanting to hold them close to his heart for as long as humanly possible.

By the time he was done, he glanced up and saw that Izuku looked as though his soul had left his body. He was paler than before, only now it was with a tint of green darker than even his hair, and he had unshed tears in his wide, wide eyes.

Looks like the whole “pitiable” angle worked, and a lot better than he anticipated.

“I... I’m so sorry...” seemed to be the only thing capable of leaving Izuku’s mouth. “I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t realize... that’s so horrible, I—”

“Please stop talking.” Five rasped wearily. The story wasn’t all that long; he’d shortened it to a brief but very blunt anecdote, but just thinking about that awful place made him grit his teeth.

The other boy flinched, but complied without another word, bringing a hand up to his mouth to keep the rest in.

With a tired sigh, Five brought his hand up and summoned some blonde waitress, who strode over to their table.

“Coffee. Black.” He was so mentally drained that he didn’t bother with full sentences. He thought for a moment, then added “Please.” Never be rude to the people that handle your food and drink. Five may be an old man, but he’s an old man with standards, thank you.

The waitress nodded, seemingly empathetic. She turned towards Izuku, who shook his head and waved his hand in a “no thanks” gesture, before leaving for the kitchen.

Five would honestly prefer a bottle of sake or something, but he’ll take what he can get. The exact legal age of drinking in this country is something he never bothered to find out, but he can safely assume it’s “more than thirteen.”

“Um...” the green haired youth muttered while twiddling his thumbs, looking like he wanted to say something.

“Spit it out, kid.”

“What was it that caused the apocalypse?”

Five hesitated. On one hand, preventing the apocalypse might be easier if people knew what actually caused it in the first place. On the other, there’s no way in hell he can just tell them that his emotionally unstable sister could blow up and kill everyone around her if she gets too upset. He wants to save all of his family, thank you.

Besides, if someone has to die, it can’t be the one sibling he can still tolerate.

His mind was made up. “The moon blows up, falls to earth, everyone dies dinosaur style.” Not technically a lie, so it should be fine.

Apparently it is, because Izuku only nods and stares at the table, eyes blank.

The waitress comes back, and it only seems to register at that moment that a kid is ordering black coffee, because her eyes flitted over to his (stolen) uniform with something similar to askance. Thankfully, she has the decency to mind her own business, so rather than say anything, she merely places some sugar packets in front of the cup and walks away.

Five ignores the sugar and takes a long sip of his piping hot cup of joe. It’s painfully bitter, but rich and warm, so his body welcomes it. He forgot how much a good brew can take the edge off.

Izuku stammers, “U-Um, th-this is g-gonna sound weird, b-b-but...”

“Slowly, green bean, you know I need to be ableto understand you.”

“How are you now?”

Five glanced up. The question caught him off guard a little bit, mainly because he wasn’t sure how to answer it, or even what was being asked exactly. “Excuse me?”

“I mean...” the other boy fumbled, “it’s just, are you gonna be okay? I can take you back to my school if you need a place to stay.”

Oh. Right. 

He’s technically homeless. What with all the chaos that happened within the past... hour and a half or so, he almost forgot that this kid had met him while he was squatting in a library like a hobo.

Admittedly the idea of sleeping in an actual bed for once wasn’t unappealing, so maybe he’ll have to consider this school of his. He wonders if it’s a boarding school, then finds himself praying that it’s a boarding school and that he’ll get to use an actual mattress. One thing the apocalypse taught him was that sleeping on something solid when you’re young for most of your nights can and will lead to back problems later down the line. When The Commission found him, they had to take him to several chiropractors. As well as physical (and mental) therapists.

He was a mess back then.

Hell, he still is kind of a mess. At least he’s a mess with a goal and a reasonable amount of sanity left, which is more than he can say for his batshit family of man-children and total dysfunction.

Five frowned a little, pretending to think it over for a bit, when really he was just trying to think of a decent excuse why a middle school aged kid would be out on his own for two weeks or so.

But just then, there was a silent warble in the air. No actual sound was made, but some sort of buzzing sensation filled the ears of the ex-hitman, humming in his throat and tickling his jawline. He felt a migraine coming on.

“Izuku.”

“Y-Yes?”

“Why don’t you step outside for a few minutes, alright?”

To anyone who happened to be listening, that sentence may have sounded slightly suspicious but otherwise harmless. But Five put everything he had into a long, hard glare, using whatever energy he had left to make his message clear.

You need to leave. This is not up for debate.

Sure enough, Izuku got the idea. He swallowed nervously, and with a line of sweat across his hairline, stood up from his seat and shuffled out the front door, which closed itself with a jingle as the bell rung.

Five spun around in his chair, a slow smirk spreading across his face as he turned to face the blonde waitress from earlier.

The waitress scowled back at him, manicured nails clutching a kitchen knife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is gonna give us a little hint as to what the other Hargreeves are up to. Let me know how you guys feel about that.

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone that’s curious:
> 
> Luther “Quirk”: Apeman (Mutant). Has the body and strength of a gorilla.  
> Diego “Quirk”: Trajectory Manipulation (Emitter). Can change the path of any moving object.  
> Allison “Quirk”: Rumor (Emitter). Uses a trigger phrase to perform a command on someone.  
> Klaus “Quirk”: Seance (Emitter). Can commune with ghosts and summon them. They can possess his body.  
> Five “Quirk”: Spacial Jump (Transformation/Emitter). Can teleport and jump through time.  
> Ben “Quirk”: Cthulhu Mythos (Transformation). Can summon beasts from his body.  
> Vanya “Quirk”: Soundwave Shock (Emitter). Can manipulate sound waves.  
> Lila “Quirk”: Mimic (Transformation). Can copy a skill or quirk.


End file.
